


Not A Sea Change

by Abradystrix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-08-18 05:12:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8150257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abradystrix/pseuds/Abradystrix
Summary: A very short ramble that grew from a good view and a glass of wine: the boys go venturing, in the Muggle way.Rated M for Chapter 4 'Salt'.





	1. Whisky

It had been Albus' idea to travel somewhere in the UK.

He had been delighted to find that driving was one area he could excel, tending to his battered old car with the misguided ministrations of his grandfather. That was how this started.

On the boat, to Scorpius' surprise, Albus has the weaker sea legs and has to lie flat, grumbling, while Scorpius looks towards the horizon, feeling giddy. 

They go to a Muggle distillery and both find it fascinating but Scorpius takes it to another level entirely when quizzing the elderly guide about this alchemical miracle. They buy a bottle and at night sit in front of a fire laughing and chatting. The whisky burns their throats in the best kind of way, tasting salt, fire and sweetness all at once. They fall asleep on the sofa, heads on shoulders and wake up with hands entwined. 

They share a bashful glance at one another before Scorpius leaps up to make tea. Watching him fuss around the small kitchen, Albus can feel the warmth in his hand, still. He walks up behind Scorpius and wraps his arms around his waist, pressing his forehead into the flat plane between his shoulders. He pulls him in close and Scorpius stops speaking, faltering mid sentence. He places his hands on top of Albus' and for the longest time they stand like this, just like this, waiting. 

He can feel the warmth of Albus' breath through his jumper and he closes his eyes, allowing himself to be silent and just exist in this moment. Albus thinks that Scorpius smells of fresh parchment and, inexplicably, the sea. He inhales him, eyes closed, feeling the rising and falling of Scorpius' breath, threadier than usual and hitching. Slowly their breathing synchronises and eventually Scorpius squeezes the hands on his stomach, stepping forward once again to tend to the teapot, slightly dazed. 

Albus smiles slightly and briefly rests his hand on his friend's back before moving away, opening the cottage door and looking outwards. 

Things are changing. Not a sea change, not a landslide but an incremental movement towards something more, each day a new intimacy, a fleeting touch, an extended gaze. He sits, shivering slightly in the morning air and as though by magic a set of thin feet clad in woollen socks appear in his peripheral vision and with the slightest exhalation, Scorpius sits down beside him. 

Wordlessly, he passes him a cup of golden tea, the steam rising in eddies and whirls. They sit in companionable silence, sipping tea, arms touching and sides of bodies pressed together for warmth. 

The sun is rising.


	2. Crumbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the same world as 'Not A Sea Change' the boys eat dinner and talk about toast.

Albus has done most of the cooking this trip. He's surprisingly good at it, reflects Scorpius, observing as he throws ingredients into pans, humming to himself. It's like Potions, really, says Albus modestly when asked about this unforeseen skill. 

They eat in companionable silence and Scorpius beams at his friend, thankful for the small pleasure of eating together. He used to love sitting at the large table in the Manor, feet swinging well above the floor, just having dinner with his mum and dad. When she was gone, her absence resonated in the hollow room, and the clatter of cutlery on plates gave way to a muted silence as he and his father stared into space, tasting nothing.

His sudden sadness must reflect in his face because Albus puts his fork down and touches his arm.

'Scorp? Mate?'

'Hm?' he starts, coming back to the room. Albus' eyes are bright with concern and Scorpius kicks himself mentally for provoking that reaction. Albus licks his lips and searches Scorpius' face.

'What were you thinking about?' he asks searchingly.

Scorpius pauses. Since everything, Albus has made a concerted effort to ask more questions, be more aware. It's nice, in a way, but at times like this it is like being caught in the beams of a very bright light. Scorpius doesn't mind that light, necessarily, but it's a new, direct kind of interaction that he's not quite used to.

'My... My mum. And the Manor.' he replies softly, a half-smile on his lips.

Before, this might have thrown Albus. Now, he leans forward and asks more. Partly, he's being conscious of his wonderful friend and how close he came to losing him. Partly, he's interested. He's been to the Manor - he would never admit it to his father but he finds it impressive. The dark gates are imposing but beyond the gates the house is quiet, sombre almost. He grew up in such a noisy, colourful household that something about the silence in the Manor soothes him. It's strange in a way, as he knows Scorpius feels quite the opposite, relishing the warmth and frenetic energy of the Potter home. Maybe that's why they fit.

'Did she cook?' Albus asks, searching for something mundane to say, to engage Scorpius in a subject he knows is painful. To his great relief, Scorpius sits back and seems to relax as he remembers.

'Er, not exactly' he says, half-laughing. ''She tried. Dad told me once that when they first started seeing one another she was trying to live without magic... wanted to just let it all go and forget it. I think she managed but unfortunately for Dad it did mean a number of failed culinary experiments... I never thought they were that bad. I think he had a slightly different idea of cuisine...'

Albus smiles: he can imagine the kind of meals Draco would have been used to at home. He can also well imagine how polite Scorpius was being in his description of food as being 'not that bad'.

'Was there anything she made that you really, really liked?' he ventures, mentally praying that this won't be too probing a question. He fears that he still hasn't quiet mastered the art of friendship when it comes to someone both as loquacious and kind as his best friend. Scorpius smile fades slightly as he considers the question. After a long silence, his eyes brighten again, ever so slightly and he responds with confidence.

''Toast'

Albus tries not to, he really does, but he can't help but giggle.

'Toast?' he asks, a smile twisting his lips. Scorpius doesn't seem to mind.

'Yes. Toast. With honey. She used to make it for me when I was sad. Even when she wasn't so well... she would still do it. Sometimes we would sit by the fire and toast the bread ourselves... when she... when I was helping her, you know, before she... she died, I used to bring it to her instead. I always hoped it would make her feel better like it did me... it made her smile at least...'

Something clicks in Albus' mind and he thinks back to the many breakfasts they've shared over the years and the patient and dogged way that Scorpius approaches his morning routine of tea and toast. He'd never noticed the honey before. He's not sure he's seen it since Astoria passed away. He watches his friend closely. He's not sad, as such. There's a far away look in his eyes and his hands are tapping absently on the table. Albus, led only by pure emotion, leans over and puts his hand on Scorpius', who looks over at him and smiles, a warm true smile that swoops into Albus' very core and makes his heart beat just a little faster.

The moment ends as they turn their attention back to their meal, their conversation changing to topics of the relative merits of various sweets and snack foods. Even though Scorpius is soon preoccupied with the mechanics of the Pepper Imp production process, Albus can't stop thinking about the image of this boy, this brave, kind boy, and the things he must have seen and felt on his own.

***

The next morning, Scorpius is startled awake when the door to their room in the tiny cottage opens and a bleary-eyed but enthusiastic Albus stands, replete with tray. On it are two cups of tea, and a pile of toast drizzled in honey. Albus' hair is wild and there is sleep in his eyes as he walks over to the bed and mumbles: 'Budge up.'

Scorpius does, pulling the duvet back up and sitting the tray on top of the blankets. He beams at Albus with slightly moist eyes and they quickly turn their attention to the pile of toast, knees touching and crumbs falling into every fold of the duvet.


	3. Mint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third in the series of 'Not A Sea Change' chronicling the subtle introduction of intimacy between the boys on a Muggle holiday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for @autumnhearthfire who had some dental woes... A quick piece, set in the same time period as the previous two chapters, where the boys are away from the wizarding world on a semblance of a Muggle holiday. Fluff.

Eyes green as ever, hair wilfully ignoring the laws of gravity, and a thinning of the face that seems to have accompanied his most recent growth spurt - Albus is taking stock of his reflection, bemusedly. Peering into the glass, he sees a face older than it once was, with eyes he has long learned to loathe yet recently has softened towards. His old black t-shirt is somewhat shorter than he'd like but given that it's bed time, and he's about to collapse into a ramshackle bed in a twin room with Scorpius of all people, he chooses not to mind. 

Standing by the sink, clad in this fetching ensemble of black atop shabby green pyjamas, feet bare, he shakes his head and focusses on the task at hand, a messy smear of toothpaste hastily applied to his slightly careworn toothbrush. He shifts from foot to foot thoughtfully as he brushes his teeth, in a somewhat haphazard way. 

Albus finds that things like brushing teeth and hair really only serve to eat into time that could be better spent elsewhere. Though he has no great compunction to sport or particular academic endeavour, he enjoys a sense of purpose and movement that the practicalities of human routine don't always allow for. There is an itch inside Albus that hasn't dissipated yet, a sense of urgency and thirst to prove himself that has blazed inside him for as long as he can remember. His escapades have eased it in many ways, but in others he is still as keen to truly define himself as he ever was.

He has moved back to looking at the mirror now and stares once more at his face, the toothbrush now static as he peers again at his hair, wondering in passing if a haircut might improve the situation. He is startled when the door - which is ajar already - creaks open and Scorpius wanders in, humming.

Albus is no stranger to sharing a bathroom. He has spent much of his childhood seeking out his own space away from his siblings and the clutter and the noise of the family home. Perhaps one of the reasons he hates brushing his teeth so much is the early memory of standing in rough formation in a bathroom with James and Lily, desperate for some peace while his mother supervised the night-time rituals. On a particularly noxious occasion, James had delightedly swapped Albus' toothpaste for soap. It wouldn't have been so bad if the bitter taste hadn't been accompanied by the barely suppressed grins of his parents, attempting to discipline the sweetly smiling eldest son. Albus had only ever wanted a bit of quiet...

But there is something new about this. It's a different kind of intimacy and Scorpius seems quite oblivious to the wide-eyed stare of the boy with the mad hair, green eyes and currently slack jaw, who is watching his best friend apply his toothpaste neatly to a very respectable looking brush (he finds himself thinking that Aunt Hermione would certainly approve, having not quite shaken her parents' dental concerns, even now). As Scorpius begins to brush, methodically and with an almost uncharacteristic patience, Albus watches him as though for the first time. 

Of course they've brushed their teeth together before, so to speak. There isn't much that goes on in a boys dormitory and communal bathroom that is truly private, however the fact that it's just the two of them in a space that is entirely theirs, at least for the week, has inexplicably caused Albus to flush and his heart to beat a little faster.

Realising he has been staring for so long that a trail of toothpaste is at risk of dribbling from his mouth, he hastily turns back to sink and begins brushing once more. From the very side of his gaze, he takes in Scorpius, elegantly dressed as ever, in a matching pyjama set that seems to set off his colouring perfectly, his hair neat and achingly soft, Albus imagines. He brushes his teeth with a tenacity and a tenderness that somehow Albus knows in his gut that he associates this domestic routine with his mother. He notices the tendons in Scorpius' hand as he moves the brush around and admires his slim wrists and strong jaw. He sometimes feels Scorpius belongs to another era or another life entirely. He is glad, however, that he is here.

Scorpius catches Albus looking and grins at him in the mirror. Albus can't help but grin back and he stifles a laugh as Scorpius nudges his hip against his. Albus nudges back and spits out his toothpaste, sticks his tongue out at his friend and turns to leave. Scorpius laughs and continues his dental reverie. On impulse, Albus turns on his heel and kisses his friend on the cheek. It is a soft cheek, downy and warm, and the smell of Scorpius mixed with fresh mint is intoxicating. The brushing stops for a moment and they look at each other. 

Albus smiles, heart hammering in his chest and slowly walks from the room, leaving a stunned and slightly pink Scorpius in his wake.

As he slips into the hastily made bed, Albus runs his tongue along his teeth thoughtfully and decides that he may have underestimated the art of tooth brushing, before falling asleep and dreaming of soft cloth pyjamas.


	4. Salt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get heated for the boys.
> 
> Explicit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Following on from a snogging drabble written for the Scorbus Valentine's Challenge on Tumblr.
> 
> Many thanks to the wonderful @bounding-heart for beta reading!

_The water is warm and their toes clutch deep in the wet sand as they roll their trouser legs up. Scorpius can't help but glance at the skin on Albus' legs, pale beneath a thatch of dark hair, bony ankles and knobbly knees exposed. His own feet seem long and gangly in comparison and they instinctively curl inwards as his focus changes to the warm hand clasped in his. He looks at Albus, whose gaze is soft and rests on the very line of the horizon, which is burning orange and pink at the close of day. Scorpius rests his forehead on the crown of Albus' head and breathes in the smell of the sea, the salty tang of the air, and Albus. Just Albus. Fierce, funny, windswept Albus._

 

_Albus tilts his head up to gaze at his friend and something shifts. Before Scorpius realises what he is doing, he has caught Albus' lips with his own and is kissing him, being kissed by him and feeling his breath, and the slightest hint of a warm, tentative tongue. His heart catches in his throat as the kiss deepens and Albus' hands slide into  his hair. He pulls him closer, pressing their chests together, beating hearts talking to one another through the soft fabric of their clothes. He rests his hands on Albus' waist, softly at first, as it all intensifies. Burning with need, he allows his fingers to brush the delicate line where Albus' t-shirt has ridden up and feels the delicious warmth of the skin there. Albus shifts against him, making a nondescript but utterly intoxicating murmur of approval._

 

_They pull apart, infinitesimally, eyes closed and foreheads pressed together. They are both taking  quick, ragged breaths and their feet in the sand are now toe to toe. Albus draws a hand up to Scorpius' face and presses his warm palm against  his cheek. Scorpius sighs happily, leaning into the reassuring pressure. Right now, the calming rush of the sea and the delectable warmth of this moment truly are all they need._

 

***

 

Time is passing too quickly, or perhaps not quickly enough. Albus' foot is tapping on the rug as he stares into the fire. His cheeks are flushed and his hair half-dry, having only emerged from the shower moments before. Scorpius had touched his arm briefly before disappearing up the stairs for his own shower, and Albus cannot tell if it has been minutes or hours since he left. All he knows is that he’s overcome with impatience.

 

That kiss on the beach has shifted something inside him. It writhes and keens in his chest like some kind of animal.

 

The touching and teasing had built to a  crescendo. Their kisses had started out hasty and innocent, replete with blushes and soft touches. But they’d grown in intensity and excitement in a way that was inevitable. Albus finds himself thinking again about the feel of Scorpius' long, cool fingers brushing his stomach, stroking the line of hair leading down to further than they have been before.

 

His heart is hammering so loudly in his chest that he can barely breathe, and he jumps out of his skin when the door bursts open and a dishevelled but delightfully damp Scorpius appears, towel around his neck and pyjamas gloriously askew. Scorpius opens his mouth but before he can say anything, Albus stands, crosses the room, and then kisses him with a ferocity that causes Scorpius to make a surprised and delighted ‘mmph’.

 

Twisting, winding around one another, they stumble to the sofa where Albus finds himself on top of Scorpius. He smells of soap and mint, and Albus’ kisses spring from somewhere deep that roars for a further intimacy. He can taste the sweet heat of Scorpius' mouth and eagerly explores it with his tongue. Scorpius groans ever so softly against his kiss, and Albus' stomach lurches as he realises he can feel Scorpius' hard cock on his thigh. He presses into it, a delicious friction building, and his own arousal responds eagerly.

 

Abruptly, Scorpius pulls away and looks him in the eye, pupils dilated and cheeks flushed.

 

'Albus, wha-?'

 

'I just... need to,' he responds, voice cracking. 'I love you. And I want to... Show you, that is.'

 

He sets his jaw and forces himself to keep staring into Scorpius' eyes, despite the fact his heart is beating so hard and fast that he feels he could simply pass out. He's never felt so vulnerable or so alive as he does in this moment, hands wrapped in blond hair and legs entwined.

 

Scorpius says nothing, but eyes blazing, he removes Albus' shirt. Throwing it aside, he tugs at his own top, and having relinquished this, flips Albus onto his back with surprising force. Caught off guard, Albus' eyes widen as Scorpius begins to kiss him deeply, slowly and with intent.

 

'I love you too,' he murmurs in Albus’ ear, moving to kiss his neck. Albus thinks he could come right then and there. He's so used to an exuberant, flapping Scorpius that this slow, sensual attention is even more arousing. He shifts under his boyfriend, and (partly) inadvertently presses his groin upwards as he shifts his soft pyjama trousers down. Scorpius moves to help him and all at once, Albus is fantastically naked. Burying his face in Scorpius' shoulder and neck, he bites down on the soft pale skin as he tugs at Scorpius' waistband.

 

And then they are both lying together, exposed, and skin to skin.

 

They've been nearly naked together before, but not like this. Not with barely an inch between them, hands roaming wildly and kissing frantically. Albus has never felt anything as glorious as this, and his heart thrums in his throat as Scorpius pulls back and traces his hand down his stomach. His breath hitches as Scorpius' fingers wrap around his cock and start to move. They stare at one another, and Scorpius opens his mouth to ask -

 

'Yes,' breathes Albus, before he can even get the words out, 'yes, please.'

 

Scorpius nods and starts to gently rub and pull, licking his lips, fiercely determined. Albus urges him on, breathing heavily. He watches Scorpius, a slight smile on his lips as he experiments, looking to Albus, reading his face for indications of what he should do.

 

 _Anything_ , thinks Albus, _at this point, anything_.

 

He's so close now, as Scorpius rolls his hand over and over again.

 

'Scorp... Scorpius...' he stammers, backing away slightly.

 

'Yes? What? Are you ok? Did I...?' Scorpius asks, panicked, loosening his grip.

 

'No... it's perfect... I just... I'm close. And I, er, wanted to tell you?' he says, at this precise moment unsure of why he's stopped the best event of his life so far.

 

Before he can feel too awkward about this brief pause, Scorpius smiles gleefully and leans down to kiss him, resuming his keen ministrations.

 

'I know you are. That's sort of the point.' Albus can feel him smirking against his lips and he gives himself up to it entirely.

 

This is nothing like his usual wanking. This is electric, this is technicolour and every sensation feels heightened to an almost unbearable extreme. The swooping feeling begins in his toes, curling up through his body and he gasps uncontrollably as he comes, jerking and twitching, spilling all over that goddamn wonderful pale hand and onto his own stomach.

 

They lie for a minute, completely still, looking at one another. Scorpius bursts into an exuberant grin and bends down once more to kiss him. He doesn't seem to mind the mess at all.

 

'Now...' He says, laughing into Albus' ear, 'what next?'

 

Feeling energised and bold, Albus presses his sticky body to Scorpius, who gasps as Albus kisses him, hard and full of intent. They move to sit up and Albus sits astride Scorpius' lap, looking at him thoughtfully, an eyebrow quirked.

 

'Everything,' he responds eventually and starts to kiss his way down the beautiful pale skin before him. He drops down between Scorpius' knees and strokes his inner thighs. Scorpius glows with enthusiasm for this newfound intimacy, and his grey eyes send Albus' heart racing all over again.

 

He starts to stroke and touch and feel the heat and girth of Scorpius' cock in his hand. Impulsively, he brings some of the slick moisture from his stomach to his hand and uses it to intensify his movements. Scorpius gasps and moans appreciatively and Albus takes heart from this, boldly stroking and rubbing in a way that feels indescribably intimate and utterly fucking sexual.

 

'A... Albus...' says Scorpius, voice shaking.

 

'I know,' he murmurs, 'please do.'

 

And he does.

 

Albus watches in wonder as Scorpius comes in his hand, hot seed spilling between his fingers, hips jerking and breath gasping. He realises he is hard once more, and as he slows his movements, he wonders with wicked excitement about what will happen next. He pulls himself back up to the sofa and for a while they sit alongside one another, breathing heavily, sticky hands entwined, Albus' head on Scorpius shoulder.

 

'That was...' Albus smirks, as for once Scorpius can't seem to find the words.

 

'Do we... well, evidently we do. Do that now. I mean.' He eventually manages to say.

 

'It seems we do,' replies Albus, turning to smile at him.

 

'And how,' murmurs Scorpius appreciatively, running a hand over Albus' cheek.

 


End file.
